


Catch the Midnight Flight

by matcha_milkyway



Category: Free!
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, airplane au, melon-pan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matcha_milkyway/pseuds/matcha_milkyway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nanase Haruka cannot sleep.<br/>Enter beautiful red-eyed stranger, and he thinks it might just be okay that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch the Midnight Flight

"Hush, sweetie," a voice coos, overly cloying.

For what has to be the fiftieth time in less than a minute, Rin's seat rocks forward, and he cannot help but wonder if this kid has broken a world record of some sort.

From behind him the child screeches, the noise grating on his nerves and akin to the sound of a dying animal attempting to transmit a final message to the last of its kind. He is about 93% certain it is the spawn of Satan disguised as human offspring.

Images of himself gently wrapping his hands around the toddler's delicate neck and ever-so-carefully snapping its windpipe flash through his mind, and he decides he'll even settle for sawing its legs off with a plastic knife nicked off a passing stewardess's food cart.

He sighs, then hauls his rucksack out and into his lap from underneath his seat.

_The melon-pan of sadness_ , he thinks, retrieving the bread from the bag's front pocket and observing its (depressingly enough) flattened form, but he figures it'll make the plane journey less of a hellish experience the way food lessens the pain of a situation sometimes. 

_Work your magic, o sweet bread of mine._

\--

Beside him, the man lurches forward in his seat yet again. This time he awakens, blinking the sleep out of shadowed and bleary eyes.  
If looks could kill, Haruka reckons the scowl plastered on the redhead's face would be a grade-SS assassin.

An hour into the flight Haruka learns that the night sky does not make for an interesting subject of study any more than his feet do.  
(In retrospect, he should not have downed the glass of water he had had so quickly.)

Therefore, by default, he had taken to the discreet observation of all passengers aboard. 

The old lady two seats away had been interesting enough, with her butterfly-print headscarf, bleached-platinum beehive and haughty huff of disdain at being informed that _no ma'am, we do not have foie gras or white truffle purée on board_ , but when the redhead beside him had begun to snore softly despite the incessant crying of the infant the row behind and the repeated kicks delivered to the back of his seat, Haruka had shifted his attention to him instead.

\--

_Homicidal intentions are bad, Rin_ , he whispers under his breath like a mantra, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately willing the headache throbbing at the back of his cranium to go the fuck away. 

He feels bad about it, but gingerly presses a fingertip to the flight-attendant call button anyway. A minute later, when a stewardess arrives (looking just as weary as he probably does), he requests for a cup of coffee with a sheepish smile (which he hopes is enough of an apology).

The presence of caffeine soothes his nerves as it runs warm down his throat and settles, and he can feel his eyelids growing heavier as he makes to set the half-empty plastic cup of coffee down on the folding tray, except--

By some freakishly evil twist of fate, the plane jolts wildly, and the contents of the cup land on the shirt of the guy beside him.

\--

His features are sharp, Haruka notices, arranged in a manner that allows him to appear almost handsome. With his gaze he traces the edge of a jawline, raking over a black t-shirt and a chequered flannel that all but conceal well-defined muscles. What is most striking, however, is the wine-like shade of the man's hair, and the carmine eyes that match. 

In his peripherals he clocks in the way the man stretches like a lazy cat that has just ended a nap, watching as an expression of chagrin roots in his furrowed brow and down-turned lips when he hesitantly presses the flight-attendant call button.

He nurses the cup of coffee with something resembling worship in his eyes, which Haruka finds mildly amusing--that is, until the plane swerves mid-air and the words _oh no_ materialize in his mind a little too late.

\--

"SHITSHITFUCKSHIT I am _so sorry_ ohmygod," the redhead practically yells. More than a few people stir and heads turn in their direction.

Haruka promptly clamps a hand over his mouth.

" You're going to wake people up," Haruka mutters, then waits a full three seconds before removing his hand. 

"...sorry." he whispers.

_At least the coffee wasn't hot_ , Haruka thinks, and peers upward to confirm the seatbelt logo is not flashing before getting up to head to the bathroom. At the unexpected sensation of a hand grabbing his, he comes to an abrupt halt, glancing behind questioningly.

"...uh, i-if you want to, you could change into this..."the man trails off, holding out his flannel and averting his gaze.  
His face is red, and for some reason Haruka's heart flutters at the observation.

He accepts.

\--

_One day_ , Rin resolves, _one day I will go through twenty-four hours without fucking up and granting myself the title of biggest idiot to ever walk the Earth._

He buries his face in his hands.  
He wonders if he should switch career options to _professional tomato_ , or maybe even _human traffic light._  
_Walking Stop sign_ , perhaps. 

But _damn_ , that guy's eyes were _really_ blue. 

\--

Haruka plops down in his seat. 

"Sorry about that." the redhead grimaces. 

"Nanase Haruka."

"I--wait, huh?"  
The man's eyebrows furrow once more, points of his teeth (why are they so sharp?) worrying his bottom lip, and Haruka refuses to admit he thought the reaction was (just a little bit) endearing. 

"My name."

"Oh...uh...Matsuoka Rin."

"Rinrin, huh." 

And when his cheeks flush coral, Haruka understands why the flannel carries the scent of cherry blossoms.

\--

Over the next hour Haruka learns that Rin possesses the well-honed ability to curse in both Japanese and very fluent English. 

He doesn't know how someone can get so agitated over tic-tac-toe. 

He also gains the knowledge that Rin is _very_ passionate about swimming, when a round of Hangman ends with Haruka successfully filling in the blanks to "the stroke I swim" and listening to Rin rave about the sport for about ten minutes. 

"Bet you can't beat me," Rin taunts, and Haruka mentally awards him "Most Annoying Smirk on Earth". 

"I only swim free," Haruka frowns,  
_but maybe for you, I'll make an exception._

They promise to meet up at a pool sometime.

\--

Five minutes into a heated debate on what the best comfort food is, (mackerel versus kimchi pork), someone yells at them to shut up.

Rin flushes.

Then he catches Haruka staring, cobalt trained on his features, and he blushes even harder.

"Kimchi mackerel, then," he manages to grin.  
Haruka grimaces at the idea and laughter bubbles in Rin's throat.

\--

"What would Nanase Haruka order at McDonald's?" 

"...mack--"

"McDonald's doesn't sell mackerel, you bumbling idiot."

"...I don't know," Haruka sighs. 

"Water," He pauses for effect, and his grip on Haruka's arm tightens.  
"because it's free!" Rin cracks up, burying his face in the curve of Haruka's neck.

Haruka rolls his eyes, but finds it increasingly difficult to suppress a smile.

\--

Then Rin pauses mid-speech, like he remembers something, and reaches under his seat for his rucksack.  
He unzips the bag, rummaging around a little before his hands seem to close around desired object. 

Haruka frowns in confusion when Rin waves a half-eaten melon-pan in his face. 

_"The melon-pan of magic_ ," he proclaims, voice a theatrical whisper, and when Haruka complies and takes a bite Rin laughs even harder.

"Give me your phone," Rin chokes out between mirth-fuelled chuckles.

\--

The morning sees them nestled against each other, Haruka's cheek pressed against the top of Rin's head, their hands touching, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit in love. 

Later, when the plane lands, the stewardesses giggle and decide they'll let the two sleep in a little longer as they usher the rest off first.

\--

_Hey,_  
_Wanna catch the midnight flight?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
